Shadows of the Chosen: The Rock Paper Scissors Ghost Story

In the quiet town of Eldridge, nestled between rolling hills and dense forests, there stood an old, decrepit house that had long been abandoned. It was said that the house was cursed, its former inhabitants driven mad by the strange happenings within its walls. One such inhabitant was a man named Henry, a gambler of notorious reputation. Henry's life was a game of chance, and in his final days, he had chosen his fate through the ancient game of Rock, Paper, Scissors.

Henry had been a fixture in the town's gambling den, known for his sharp mind and unbreakable nerve. He would often challenge anyone, no matter their station, to a game of Rock, Paper, Scissors. His choice of game was as arbitrary as it was fateful. One day, as the sun dipped below the horizon, Henry sat at a table, the dim light casting long shadows on the walls. His opponent, a local farmer named James, had agreed to play a final game with him, a game that would determine Henry's future.

"Rock, Paper, Scissors," Henry said, his voice steady despite the tension that had grown thick in the air.

James, not one to back down, replied with a swift, "Scissors."

The two men raised their hands, and the air crackled with anticipation. Henry's hand, with its rock, met James's scissors. James's scissors won the round, but Henry's hand was a clenched fist, indicating he was prepared to play again. The game went on, round after round, with Henry refusing to give in, until finally, he lost.

Henry's hand had been the one to choose death, and from that moment on, he was haunted by his own choice. His spirit, trapped in the old house, was driven by a desire to understand why he had been cursed to wander the earth as a ghost.

Years passed, and the house fell into disrepair. It was then that a young man named Alex moved to Eldridge, seeking a fresh start. Alex was a man of few words, a man who had left his past behind in the hope of finding peace. It was not long before Alex discovered the old house and its dark history. He was drawn to it, as if an unseen force was calling him.

One evening, as Alex walked past the house, he heard a whisper, faint but insistent. "Rock, Paper, Scissors."

Alex, feeling a chill run down his spine, turned to see an old man with a haunted look in his eyes. The man extended his hand, revealing a rock, and spoke in a voice that seemed to resonate with an ancient truth.

"Alex, you have been chosen. You must play my final game. The fate of the house, and perhaps the town, hangs in the balance."

Alex's mind raced. He knew of the curse, but he was not a man to turn back from a challenge. He extended his hand, not knowing what to expect.

"Paper," Alex said, his voice steady despite the fear that was creeping into his chest.

The old man's eyes widened as he saw the paper in Alex's hand. He nodded slowly, his expression one of relief.

"You have won, Alex. The curse is lifted. But remember, with great power comes great responsibility. The house will be restored, but it will be your responsibility to protect it."

As Alex nodded, he felt a warmth spread through his body. The old man vanished, leaving behind only the whisper of his voice. Alex walked away from the house, the burden of the old man's words heavy upon his shoulders.

Weeks passed, and Alex worked tirelessly to restore the old house. He cleaned it, painted it, and even cleared the overgrown land around it. The townspeople watched in awe as the house was brought back to life. They had forgotten the curse, but Alex had not. He knew that the old man's spirit was watching over him, and he felt a sense of duty to keep the house safe.

One night, as Alex stood outside the house, a sudden wind picked up, howling through the trees. The house seemed to shiver, as if it were aware of the approaching storm. Alex rushed inside, his heart pounding with a mix of fear and anticipation.

The wind howled louder, and suddenly, the house was filled with shadows. Alex's eyes darted around, searching for the source of the darkness. Then, he saw it—a figure standing in the corner, its face obscured by the shadows.

"Alex," the voice called out, a voice that was both familiar and terrifying.

Alex's heart stopped. He knew that voice. It was the voice of Henry, the man who had chosen death.

"Remember the game," Henry's voice echoed through the house. "Remember the choice you made."

Alex's mind raced. He had won the game, but had he truly understood the consequences? He looked at the shadows, now swirling around the house, and felt a chill run down his spine.

Suddenly, the shadows coalesced into the shape of a man. It was Henry, his eyes filled with pain and regret.

"Alex, I was wrong," Henry said. "I thought I was free from my curse, but I was not. You have to make a choice, Alex. The fate of this house, and the town, depends on it."

Alex took a step forward, his heart pounding. He looked at the shadows, then back at Henry.

"Rock, Paper, Scissors," Alex said, his voice steady despite the fear that was now a tangible presence in the room.

The shadows seemed to hesitate, then began to move. They formed the shape of a hand, raising it into the air. Alex's eyes widened as he saw the hand's fingers curl into a rock.

"Rock," the shadows whispered.

Alex nodded, feeling a strange sense of calm. He extended his hand, revealing a paper.

"Paper," Alex said, his voice filled with determination.

The shadows hesitated once more, then began to dissipate. The figure of Henry vanished, leaving behind only the empty corner of the room.

The house was silent, save for the sound of the wind outside. Alex took a deep breath, feeling a weight lift from his shoulders. He knew that the curse was over, but he also knew that the house, and the town, would always remember the choices that had been made.

Alex stepped outside, the night air crisp and clear. He looked at the house, now a beacon of light in the darkness. He knew that he had a responsibility to protect it, to ensure that the spirit of Henry was finally at peace.

And so, the old house in Eldridge stood, a symbol of the past and the choices that had shaped its future. And Alex, the chosen one, was there to guard it, a sentinel against the shadows that might come again.